


Moonlight In The Shadows

by ComposerEgg



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Dubious Consent (Of Blood Consumption), Fangan Ronpa: Fangan Academy, Hurt/Comfort, Mind Control, Other, Starvation, Thralldom, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:08:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26281663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComposerEgg/pseuds/ComposerEgg
Summary: The cold bites in ways you have not had to face in centuries.You face a room you've seen far too often in recent years. A relic of the past, that should've been left behind. Instead, you are chained within it, silver shackles binding you tight. Hachiro Maki once more deciding to toy with you.
Relationships: Ono Junpei/Sasaki Rin (Fangan Academy)
Kudos: 4
Collections: Crossover Collection Party





	Moonlight In The Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for like, psychological torture, threats of more physical torture. Childhood abuse referenced and made new. Thralldom but like, healthy other than questionable events done in distress. Starvation. Etc etc etc. It gets like, horny-adjacent during the blood drinking scene.
> 
> This is not beta'd, it's not even fucking proofread, I wrote it in 36 hrs. Enjoy, motherfuckers

The cold bites in ways you have not had to face in centuries.

The silver shackles, bound against your ankles and wrists, bite too. Burns threatened, your saving grace the long-sleeved shirt you'd chosen to wear.

 _I can make a conference trip alone_ , you said, _I'll be fine_ , you insisted. They're never going to let you go _anywhere_ alone again, after this. If you had the ability, you'd laugh, shake your head and smile at the antics you know are sure to occur.

But for now, you're locked in a staring contest with one disgraced Hachiro Maki, sitting on the cold floor of the room he tossed you in. Your old room. Altered. There’s no bed, the chains are anchored to the wall

You need time to heal. There's a wound to the back of your head, and silver nearby corroding your energy. Sleep isn't an option. Trying to speak _also_ isn't an option, not when doing so could risk puncturing the plastic shielding you from the bundle of garlic stuffed in your mouth as a gag. One wrong move and you'll be far more dead.

Trying to reach out, trying to find 'Pei at the other end of your connection, finds a curtain muffling it in the way. Radio half-tuned. On one hand, you're _thankful,_ the fear buried in your stomach won't leak through, won't worry him. The calm surface you _have_ to project to keep yourself sane is all he might feel. On the other hand…

Help isn't coming.

Help isn't coming, and you're not sure if that's a relief, or another spike of terror. Because you're stuck, waiting for a chance to escape. But at least your family won't be at risk, trying to come to your aid.

So you sit, and stare, and listen to his taunts of fire. Listen to the threats of sunlight and pain. He laughs as he talks of driving a stake through your heart, and then leaves you there, alone in the dark. When he leaves, you are left with reminders that you are trapped, and you are alone. In the house of your tormentors. Unable to dream of freedom.

This is _far_ too much like childhood for comfort.

Lockpicking tools were taken from you. Blinding, blistering, _bubbling_ agony against your hands, as you try to break your ankles out. You don’t remember, but you must’ve screamed, because once more, Maki is there, laughing. Always laughing.

A brush of concern, in your head, soft in the face of the pain. Even distorted through filters, you send back reassurance. You’re fine. You’re fine. Nothing too much came through, you can get away with it.

Hunger gnaws at you as time passes, as you try to figure out an escape. It doesn’t help that at feeding time, he waltzes in like he always used to, bringing a thrall with him and making a _show_ out of the control he has. The obedience engrained, at the core of this dynamic. He knows you know it far too well. Knows that the droplets of blood, just out of reach on the floor, sing a siren’s song as the second day blurs.

Your fangs almost pierce through to the garlic, on day three, when he leaves a thrall in the room with you. Far enough away that straining at your chains means nothing. Far enough along that mental commands can’t hold up against the shield of thralldom.

It’s pitiful. You know you’re pitiful. Sitting there, too weak to break free. Unable to stop yourself from trying, _trying_ to reach the food you need. Utterly pathetic, to think you could ever be free of the Makis’ influence. You just want to _eat_.

Three days is all it takes for the esteemed Rin Sasaki to shatter.

No amount of muffling can hide the fact that you are weak, the fact that you are _starving_ , from your thrall. You lay there, sideways on the floor, staring at the human across from you, and your thoughts are a storm of _ravenous need_ and _come help_ and _empty, aching to feed_.

**_Ba-thump_ **

The heartbeat pounding nearby is the only way to track the time.

Twisting in your bonds, trying to inch closer, gain any ground at all.

**_Ba-thump_ **

The space between each beat an eternity.

Your thrall is coming, you’re _sure_ of that, but you can’t afford to wait.

 ** _Ba-thump_**

The day doesn’t matter anymore.

He is _yours_ , he’ll listen to the call.

**_Ba-thump_ **

What matters is the fact that you are _hungry_.

You trust that he will come, but there’s food here _now_ too.

**_Ba-thump_ **

**_Ba-thump_ **

**_Ba-thump_ **

**_Ba--Bang_ **

No. That’s not the right noise. Not the noise of the heartbeat you have learned. That’s the noise of the door slamming open. Two heartbeats now, pounding out of sync. A set of hands with (no doubt stolen) keys.

**[Release me.]**

There is no room for argument. Even weakened as you are, this is _your_ thrall.

He has the good sense to get the garlic gag out of your mouth, before freeing first your legs, and then your wrists. Patience is not your strong suit, not starved for who-knows-how-long. Not when a good meal is in front of you. Every last drop of your willpower goes into not acting too soon. Avoiding injury to yourself, and to him.

As soon as the silver has been removed, you _launch_ forward, pressing against what is _yours_. Kneeling by each other you wrap your arms around him, _tight_ , and he has enough sense to thread his around you, as he tilts his head to the side. Exposing the neck.

You _bite_.

Warmth floods your mouth. The first warmth to touch you since you left home, all those ages ago. Hot as a flame, coursing through you. A feast after the famine, and you are greedy, gulping it down. Not even stopping to savor the flavors, the deep richness to it. There is so much to take, it is _yours_ to take, and you want it _all_.

A soft whimper, laced with pain, escapes your _beloved_ thrall, and no, that won’t do. The disconnect between the two of you is long gone. Never are you more united than when your fangs are buried beneath his skin, and he deserves to enjoy this _just_ as much as you.

You shift, one hand now entangled in his hair, keeping his head steady. As you bleed him, you let your emotions bleed into him. A maelstrom of satisfaction and pleasure, enjoyment coursing through your veins as his veins feed into you. A feedback loop of delectation, blurring the lines between where you end and he begins.

 _This_ is what eternity should be. Forever intertwined, taking all that you desire, until the blood has gone dry.

\--Except, there’s a hand on your shoulder, and a voice sharp as teeth, saying, “ _Rin, stop_.”

It cuts through the haze. Shock taking you out of the moment enough to process the scene in which you currently reside. Enough that you can reboot your senses, kick your _understanding_ back online, and--

You’d freeze, but you’re not in the best position to get stuck. So instead, gentle as you can, you pull back. Lick the wound to catch the drops of blood, to seal it so _‘Pei doesn’t bleed out_.

The chill has returned, weighing your stomach down, as you try to stand. Stumble away. ‘Take is there to catch you, though, and you let him. Lean against him. Try not to the horror of what you’ve just done get to you.

Fail.

‘Pei still sits there, dazed, even as you extricate all the influence in his mind which you have placed.

You don’t know what to do. What do you _do_? The bloodlust is gone and with it the buffer between you and the fact that you’ve _hurt ‘Pei_. Panic builds in your throat but you push it down, shove it away, because of all the ways you could fuck this up even more, you can’t even let the barest _chance_ of making ‘Pei feel guilty occur.

“I-- I-- I-- I’m sorry,” you start to babble, as his attention returns, and shifts back toward you. “Hadn’t eaten since-- Since the last time you saw me. Still, should’ve had better control. Shouldn’t have done that-- any of that. Was-- was just hungry. Not an excuse, I know, If-- If you need--” What can you even _offer_ that would repair the damage you’ve wrought?

As it turns out, that doesn’t matter. ‘Pei stands, and you watch, eyes calculating to make sure he doesn’t seem light-headed, before that is no longer a concern. Because he scoops you up into his arms. Holds you to his chest, and you can hear his heart beating. A reassuring rhythm. A return of the warmth. Not _heat_ , not like earlier, but a gentle radiation of it from his body.

You are so, _so_ close to crying, as he murmurs, “Rin, it’s okay. I am fine, you didn’t hurt me. The blame for what has happened does not rest on your shoulders.” If it’s a lie, it’s a good one, because even through the empathy bond, you detect nothing but truth. The only reason you _haven’t_ started to cry, yet, is because--

“Get me out of here, _please_ ,” you plead, desperation lacing your tone. You can’t put up a fight against his words, not like this. Not in this house that was never a home.

“Of course, Rin. That’s why we’re here.” It’s ‘Noka, who responds this time. Trying for a reassuring smile, but her face betrays the anger beneath. Anger at the Makis, you’re sure. She’s never blamed you for deeds involving them.

“We’ve uh. Got more blood bags for the trip home, if you need them.” ‘Take says, gesturing to the messenger bag strapped over his shoulder. “Just let me know if you need a capri sun, or whatever.”

‘Lin pops into the room, at this point, and _they’re all here_. Your family. Though ‘Lin also looks distinctly more ruffled than the rest, as he speaks. “Jun said you were hungry, so we tried to be prepared. He just got here before the rest of us. Which makes sense. He was the one with the built in tracking, so we kept the way clear. Ashe and Val are here too, to keep ‘em off us while we _go_.”

They all came for you. Your family came to save you. And they’re all _okay_. They all seem to understand that you won’t be speaking much more, and get a move on through the halls. ‘Pei refuses to set you down, and you’re fine with this. You honestly don’t know if you’d be able to stand.

‘Noka and ‘Take flank your sides, and ‘Lin walks behind. ‘Pei is still more vulnerable than the rest of them, after all. Around corners, down halls, they all move. Until the door, the exit, is in sight. _Freedom_ so close, about to be reached.

Except for Hachiro Maki standing there, in the way. Slimy grin on his face.

“It would be in your best interests to get out of our way,” ‘Pei says, anger simmering just beneath the surface, and you can taste it. The static charge of the air before the lightning strikes.

Maki chuckles, and takes out a video camera. An object you recognize, as having been set up in the room. “Actually, I think it would be in _your_ best interests to listen to what I have to say. Unless you’d rather the public get their hands on the _scandalous_ video footage of little Rin Maki--oh, excuse me, _Doctor Rin Sasaki_ , feeding from their _very obedient_ thrall.”

 _Little Rin Maki_.

It shouldn’t get to you. It’s been over two and a half centuries, more than 250 years. It _shouldn’t_ get to you.

You still flinch, anyway.

“No.”

Simple, easy denial. ‘Pei shifts, holding you closer as he takes one, small step forward.

“No? What do you mean, _no_?” Maki raises an eyebrow. You don’t know whether to bury your face in ‘Pei’s chest, or keep watching. You don’t know which would be better, but you can’t look away, either.

“I mean, no. It’s really quite simple. We are going to walk out of here unharmed, and you are not going to be releasing anything.” His voice is calm, steady, but you can _feel_ him tremble. The terror inside yourself is almost overrun by the sheer force of his anger.

“I’ll allow that, so long as you rescind all claims made against the Maki name.”

The only reason, surely, why ‘Pei hasn’t advanced more, is because he has you in his arms.

“You misunderstand, _Maki_. That was not an opening to bargain, that was a statement of fact.” His eyes are _sharp_ , and his spine rigid, as he meets Maki’s gaze. “You have kidnapped a member of the Oshiro Coven, _our family_. You have starved and tortured them for three days. Engaged in psychological warfare throughout the entire time you have known them. You are _lucky_ that Rin Sasaki is compassionate enough that they do not wish for you to make good use of your coffin, because otherwise you _would_ be in it. Not all of us are so quick to forget, and there will be no forgiveness. So, you are going to erase every single _trace_ of the footage you have, and we shall not reintroduce you to the sun.”

Maki goes very, _very_ still, as ‘Pei speaks. ‘Lin takes this opportunity to dart forward, and steal the camera. “I think we’ll be taking this. You’re not gonna need it.”

You want to say something, make _some_ remark, as ‘Noka pushes him to the side. As ‘Pei carries you out of the house, into the night. But no words come. Anything you could say to this man festers on your tongue. The idea of speaking at him just hurts.

Everything hurts.

There is so much pain, old wounds reopened to join the new, and you just want to go _home_. You just want to lie in bed, with your family, and feel _safe_ again. Safe enough to sleep, though you know that such rest won’t be coming easy.

They drove the car here. That much becomes clear, as ‘Take takes the driver’s seat, and ‘Noka takes shotgun. ‘Pei sits you down in the back, and you’ve found yourself sandwiched between him and ‘Lin. They were thinking ahead, _planned_ the best way to come to your aid.

Someone hands you a blood bag, and you take sips of it, silent. You’re safe. ‘Pei’s lost blood, but he’s been given cookies, quite literally, along with water. You’re safe. None of your family is hurt. They saved you.

You’re safe.

It doesn’t feel real, yet, so you have to keep thinking it to yourself. A litany of thoughts, trying to make yourself believe it. Letting yourself think about anything _else_ right now is dangerous. You can’t afford to break. You’ve already shattered once, you can’t allow it again.

You’re safe.

You blink, and suddenly the car is parking. The others are moving. You’re still staring into nothingness, though. It’s too _much_ to ask of yourself, to move. Too much to ask of them to help you more, though too. So you sit, and stare, and--

‘Pei is holding you again.

Carrying you inside. To your bedroom. Somewhere in this timeframe your clothes are changed, body washed with a washcloth and water. They can be more thorough later, someone says. You barely notice, sitting on the bed, staring at the carpet.

Panic floods you when ‘Pei leaves your side after this, though. Ice terror as you fling out a hand to hold onto him, because you _can’t_ , you _can’t_ be alone. It’s selfish, and you’re being selfish, trying to hold him here when he needs to deal with what he just went through, but--

“Rin, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I’m merely grabbing some more blankets.” He smiles at you, soft as moonlight, as he presses a kiss to your forehead, before doing just that.

You let go. Tentative. Because even though you can see him, as he does his task, you’re floating in the sea of disassociation. No solid anchors, none of _your_ anchors at your side. The others aren’t in the room, busy with cleanup, but that means you can’t see them. Can’t be sure this is real. Can’t be sure you haven’t fallen asleep to dream of better times, that you won’t wake trapped like before. Ensnared in webs and threads until you can’t move, can’t exist as yourself without bleeding dry.

Then-- Weight.

‘Pei, wrapping himself around you. With copious amounts of blankets to weigh the both of you down.

And this-- It can’t be real. You were prepared to hurt so much more. Burns of sunlight, of fire. Brands pressed against your body for daring to think that you could escape, could choose to not be _theirs_. You haven’t _suffered enough_ yet to be _free_. ~~As if there is any amount of suffering that could earn your freedom from the Makis.~~ It’s not over. You can’t let your guard down. You can’t let yourself fall apart. You have to be _strong_. Ready for the rude awakening.

There’s a heartbeat. Steady and strong, against your eardrums.

There’s more people in the room. Your family, piling onto the bed by you. A mess of limbs and bodies that somehow arrange themselves into a cocoon. A protective barrier between you and the rest of the world. And--

It’s the smell that gets you. All the murmuring voices of your family can be replicated by your brain, you know them too well, but the _smell_.

Cinnamon and vanilla. Citrus. Lingering hints of your mint and lavender. Half a dozen scents that flood your nose, as your family holds you tight.

Tears rest against your cheeks, a choked-back sob caught in your throat, as it hits you.

This is real.

Your family is here. Here to help you. It’s okay to break. They’ll be there to help you pick up the pieces when you’re done falling apart. They’ll be there to provide a safe landing.

You let go. You cry, shaking in their arms.

Later, you will talk about what happened. Later, there will be time to process, time to discuss.

For now, you are safe, and held.

For now, you are allowed to shatter, because no one here will be cut by the sharp edges. Those have long been made ineffectual against the ones you love. There’s no _need_ to have knives, when they have their own to wield, to protect _you_.

You are safe, and you are warm.

It smells of home.

You can _rest_.

**Author's Note:**

> [dabs] hope yall enjoyed 3k words of what started as "hey we have worldbuilding set up so that the vamps don't need to feed on their thralls, lets manufacture a way to make it happen!" which my brain jumped to kidnapping and torture for! Not like, being shut in together for a little bit! And then it just turned really soft at the end anyway I love Junpei Ono and I need to say that here he's just, the best
> 
> S/O to my friendfamily who I love and who support me!


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